Too much stuff, not enough space

Living in a studio comes with its challenges… mostly myself.

After a recent trip, I came home disgusted at the state of my place. Not that it’s dirty or wall-to-wall in junk, but more the fact I had too much crap laying around. It gave me an overwhelming sense of dread just looking at my countertops, shelves, bathroom (my god - the horrors), etc.

I hear my dad’s voice in my head (and see my parent’s garage) saying “don’t get rid of it, you might need it someday!” and while that may be true for the countless, mostly used 5w-20 oil cans in his garage (”use those first!”), I could not apply the same logic to old clothing, expired medicine, and other trinkets I haven’t touched since I bought them.

Drawing from Dana K. White’s (and Marie Kondo’s, somewhat) teachings, I found myself asking a few essential questions:

• Have I used this in the last year?
• Do I care about the thing or is it just the memory associated with it?
• Would I pay to move this across the country?

With those in mind, I got to work tearing my place apart. Soon after I returned home, in fact: the next day. Disheveling my dresser, I filled bag after bag of clothes I appreciated for the memories I made in them, but accepted the fact it wasn’t my style, or it didn’t fit, or it had stains and tears on it. Within the first couple hours, I had nearly six bags of stuff to throw away or donate. Later, I cleared off two entire shelves. This was two weeks ago, and I couldn’t tell you what I removed, further driving home the point that I didn’t need them in the first place.

As space after space was freed from the visual clutter, I slowly felt a weight being removed. I could look around at emptiness and didn’t feel the need to fill the space. My dresser drawers could now close without bits of clothing being snagged on another drawer because it was too full. Foxy had new places to sit, high up in the now-empty shelves.

In just a few days, I made leaps and bounds, asking myself why I hadn’t done this earlier. The pantry could be walked around in without stepping on who knows what. My entryway closet door shut all the way.

Would I pay to move this across the country?

Having gone through the easy stuff, I slowly worked on countertops, random drawers, and the tops of my dresser. I was finding things from freshman year of college. I didn’t touch those papers from the second I put them up there when I moved in three years ago.

With an impending move out of Reno (dates TBD), now more than ever I have that extrinsic motivation to declutter. But, as I mentioned earlier, it’s intrinsic too: I simply feel better owning less. One might look at “Swedish Death Cleaning” which ultimately is a wacky way to look at clutter, but essentially says you should clean out your home to lessen the burden on others if you were to die. Certainly don’t think I’ll be going down that road anytime soon, but the message, while morbid, is clear.

There’s still more to do. My outdoor storage is barely walkable, tip-toeing over oil pans and frame backpacks, the kitchen cabinets are overflowing with pots and pans, and drawers are still full of random junk (halloween candles? Really?) but I’m very happy with my progress so far. A decent number of things I can sell, too, hopefully netting around $600. That’s a decent gift to myself for cleaning up.

Hopefully I’ve inspired you to take a hard look at your own place and perhaps start your own path to living a clutter-free life. I’ve seen the grass on the other side, and it’s greener. Having nothing unnecessary on my countertops, likely for the first time since I moved in… it’s a great feeling.